


A Moment

by Clara_de_Morra



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, hair combing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25533694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_de_Morra/pseuds/Clara_de_Morra
Summary: She sees the furrow of his brow at her frivolous request.But they have this moment, at least.So why not?
Relationships: Illidan Stormrage/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	A Moment

**Author's Note:**

> A challenge to myself to write with no dialogue.
> 
> Hopefully you like it.

The base of the Legionfall remains blessedly silent as a smattering of defenders make the rounds, their vision sharp; the murmuring din of quiet chatter is their only real comfort as a handful of soldiers and priests, shaman and acolytes, finish up their day’s work before retiring to their tents for the night.

The otherwise still air is interrupted with the thunderous flapping of wings and a resounding caw as Odyn’s ravens take flight, causing the Warden Sylvarrin Moonwhisper’s gaze to follow them for a moment until they vanish beyond the broken tower.

As she pulls the distinctive helmet from her head, her ears twitch at the sounds of dispute escalating from the path behind her, heading very much in her direction.

The imposing form of Illidan Stormrage emerges from behind the rise, his sharp features twisted into an intense scowl as Maiev Shadowsong storms behind him, spewing threats of imprisonment after the Cathedral and the Tomb are taken. They brush past the other Warden until Maiev is called by the archmage and the prophet for a discussion of strategy.

He turns back, just enough for Sylvarrin to see a subtle smirk curl his lips as he motions for her to follow.

Within the broken tower, they have a moment to themselves, and as strong arms slide smoothly around her middle, she releases the breath she did not realize she was holding as her helmet falls forgotten to the smooth stone with a clang.

Armored hands rest upon his broad shoulders as they simply enjoy the other’s presence, and he leans forward, his forehead bumping gently against her own as her eyes slide shut. She feels his gentle exhale against her skin, and rises carefully to meet him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He tilts towards her a little more to return the simple gesture, his hand reaching up, fingertips barely grazing against the curve of her neck as they part.

She heaves a quiet sigh, and opens her eyes.

Her gaze rests briefly upon his wild mane of black hair, and the words tumble out of her mouth before she has the chance to stop herself.

She sees the furrow of his brow at her frivolous request.

But they have this moment, at least.

So why not?

He turns from her and settles at her feet, tucking his wings close as his nose wrinkles vaguely in disdain. She pulls the heavy gauntlets from her hands and sets them aside, her fingers delicately loosening the leather bands that hold the lengthy tail of hair in place, and as she combs through it gently with her hands, he huffs quietly.

She takes care not to catch her fingers within the unruly locks as she cautiously works through the knots and tangles, smoothing as she goes with her nails scratching softly at his scalp. He suppresses a shiver at the sensation; it is far too intimate an act for a place such as this, and he reluctantly grunts for her to get on with it.

She breathes a gentle laugh in response, and from beneath her plated tassets she withdraws a small pouch and sifts through the contents, withdrawing a small gleaming comb of silver not long after. She kneels behind him, gathering up the ends of his hair into her free hand, carefully working through the knots, gently apologizing at his sharp inhale when she hits a remarkably stubborn snag.

He allows this moment of weakness, not just for himself, but for her as well. Hardly any time could be spent in such absent-minded idleness, as if they were young again, roaming the city’s gardens without a care in the world. His thoughts drift to halcyon days spent how he wished, with his brother and those he considered to be true friends.

His mind snaps to the present, his Warden running her comb through his hair, her words at the peak of the Nighthold ringing clear, even as the others clamored around them.

_I thought I would never see you again._

He hears her stand and feels a careful tug as she ties the long tail of hair back into place, and even he knows that it looks far tidier than he could have managed. A comment how someone will notice, and a short laugh followed by a reassuring reply that even if someone does, there are more pressing matters at hand.

A small part of him wants to stay like this, even if only for a moment longer, but the demons would not wait for them.

They had that moment, at least.

It’s all they could have asked for.


End file.
